A Different Run
by Torqueo Animadverto
Summary: I've been friends with Claire since we were four and she ambushed me for my ring-pop. Now we're seventeen, and Claire's changed. And I'm pretty sure I'm the reason things are bad for her again. My problem is that I have no Earthly idea what I did.
1. Chapter 1

**Here is the new story. I don't have much to say because it's three in the morning, but review, and I hope you like it.**

**Summary: I've been friends with Claire since we were four and she ambushed me for my ring-pop. Now we're seventeen, and Claire's changed. Not like seventh grade changed, but this is worse. Much worse, and I'm pretty sure I'm the reason things are bad for her. My problem is though, it that I have no idea what I did. **

At five thirty, seventeen year old, Derrick Harrington's alarm clock bleated out a painful noise. He groaned in frustration, and reached his arm over in attempts to tell it to shut the hell up.

All he told it was that it needed to be on the floor instead of the nightstand.

Derrick's best friend of thirteen, almost fourteen years sighed from beside him. "Derrick, can you please remove your right elbow from my left ear?"

"Oh shit, sorry, Claire." Derrick sat up in his bed, stretching his arms above his head. A loud yawn racked through his track tanned, and toned body.

"Thank you. Do we still have time for our run? My phone went off at five, but I turned the alarm off." Claire sat up, next to Derrick.

He looked down at his decommissioned alarm clock. "What time does your phone say?"

Claire's long, white-blond hair covered her face as she leaned over the bed to pick her iPhone out of the drawer in the right nightstand that it currently resided in.

"It says five thirty five. We have time for a run. If we make it short." She jumped out of the king-sized bed, her long and tanned legs hitting the floor gracefully.

"Coach King would beat out asses black and blue if we missed a day."

"Which is the exact reason why we should get going."

"I'm going to use the bathroom." Derrick said, throwing the navy-blue comforter off his boxer-clad body.

Claire blindly groped around the floor until Derrick flicked on the light for her. She slid her legs into her black Under Armour running shorts and her black sports bra. She threw her long hair up into a messy bun, threw on some ankle socks lying on the ground, and slipped on her New Balance running shoes.

She heard the toilet flush, and straightened up. Claire pulled the spray glue from her back pack and sprayed some underneath the edges of her shorts so they wouldn't ride up.

The bathroom door opened, and despite Claire and Derrick having known each other for almost fourteen years, she still had to marvel at how he looked shirtless.

He was perfectly toned, with bronzed six pack abs. His muscles were defined, and flexed with his every move.

He smirked his terrible smirk.

"Oh shut up. You stare at me all of the time."

"Well duh. That's because you're hot."

Claire rolled her sea-green eyes. "I'm going to grab a granola bar. Do you want one?"

"Yes, please."

Claire quietly stepped down the circular staircase, due to Peter and Anna not being up. She went into the stainless steel kitchen.

Derrick's house was like almost every other mansion on Chestnut Manor: huge, and modern. There were six bedrooms, and six bathrooms. There was level one, where two of the bathrooms were, a kitchen, and a living room. The second level was considered to be the main one. It had Peter and Anna's bedroom, Kristen -Derrick's twin sister- and Derrick's bedrooms, and bathrooms in each of the bedrooms. The third floor was where they spent the majority of the time. It had one bathroom, a media room with ten massage chairs, three plasma screen televisions, and the Harrington's had as many game consoles as Europe had small countries. The exercise room was lined with state of the art equipment, mirrors acted as wallpaper, a ballet bar, a flat-screen television powered by the exercise equipment, four weight sets, and a smoothie bar. All together, the house sat on five acres of land.

"Ready to go?" Derrick asked, bouncing into the kitchen.

"Yeah," Claire grabbed two nutri-grain bars from the spacious pantry. She threw one to Derrick, and stuffed one down her sports bra as she normally did.

They were ready to go.

Claire grabbed her pedometer from her purse, which hung on a coat rack outside of the kitchen door.

They went out the front door, and across the lawn.

"Do you want to do a quick run, or a slower run? Derrick asked, falling behind slightly. He was a distance man, and Claire was a sprinter, so their paces were different.

"Today's a Friday, so it'll be a technique day. Let's do a slow mile. Ten minutes?" Claire questioned, going around a turn.

Derrick rolled his eyes. "All of you sprinters have no lung capacity, or resiliency, with your short breaths, and ABA patterns. Sure, we can do ten minutes."

"Hey, the 55 and 100m has brought in the points. Not like the 26 points men's track got at qualifying."

Derrick's face scrunched up like he was mocking her. "Fine Lyons, whatever you say. We can do a five minute mile if you would like to. I can even leave you here."

Claire rolled her eyes, not feeling any of the threat. "The last time you tried to impress me like that was two years ago, and you almost tore a tendon. You wouldn't want to have to explain to Coach how you have to sit out for the rest of the season, would you? That'd be really bad for your plan to impress Hunter, the hurdler."

Derrick's face pulled up into a lazy grin. "God, Claire. I have to ask her out. And soon. She has got to be the coolest girl I have ever met."

"Ugh, I'm hurt, Derrick." In actuality, Claire was. Maybe it was because Derrick had called another girl he had known for all of four days, "the coolest girl he has ever met", or maybe it was due to something else. Something entirely different, but completely related. Hmm, maybe.

**So, how did you like it? Tell me in a review. **

**Track terminology:**

**ABA Pattern: It's a breathing technique sprinters use. It goes, inhale right, exhale left, inhale right. Distance runners use AAABBB, which is inhale right, inhale right, inhale right, exhale left, exhale left, exhale left. Sprinters take shorter breaths, because their events are the shortest. The 55m is the shortest running event. It is half of a straight-away on a track. **

**Points: Points are easily gained at a track meet. You gain points by coming in the top six. In the county that I live in, there are about eight people per group. Groups switch out people after the event is done for those eight people. Then, the next eight run. It is almost impossible to not score anything, and most schools are scoring into the 100's during meets. **

**So do you think I should continue this story?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh crap, dinner time. Let's make this short. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Clique. I am on the track team, so I know about track, but the rest of this story is of my own ideas, except the characters. Hopefully that wasn't as confusing as it seemed.**

"God, finally!" Kristen exclaimed as Claire and Derrick walked through the foyer and into the kitchen. "I don't think either of you have time for a shower. This school day is going to be so gross."

"What time is it?" Claire asked, pulling the sweat covered granola package out of her sports bra. She grimaced and wiped it off with a towel.

"Six twenty five." Kristen said, fighting off the look of disgust. Claire and Kristen were good friends, but that didn't mean that she didn't find some of her actions disgusting.

"Shit," they exclaimed. School started in less than an hour. It was a short drive, especially if Claire was driving. She had a bad habit of driving at least thirty miles over the speed limit.

"Kristen, I'm using your shower!" Claire shouted, her voice fading as she climbed the stairs with Derrick trailing quickly behind her.

She quickly grabbed her extra set of clothes from Derrick's room and ran into Kristen's perky yellow one. The walls were a daffodil yellow color that just screamed, "BE HAPPY!", in a rather rude way.

Claire quickly pulled off her stick sports bra and yanked down her black running shorts. She stepped into the glass and marble shower, letting the warm water run down her physically fit body for a split second, before grabbing the shampoo off the bar. She scrubbed her hair for a few seconds before snatching the body soap. She scrubbed, hoping to get rid of the pungent smell of sweat and replace it with... coconut and vanilla.

She yanked the hand held shower head off it's hook and ran the water through the hair and down her body. She was done, and according to the shower clock/radio, it was now six thirty two.

She stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the heated towel rack. She rubbed down her legs, over her arms, and across her stomach before twisting it around her hair. She put some lotion on her legs, and put her Victoria Secret boyshorts on. She flicked on the fan to get rid of the steam on the mirror. She then slipped her bra on and her legs went into the Seven, white skinny jeans. She threw her green, Ralph Lauren shirt on, and slipped her blue-painted toes into a pair of yellow, Tory Burch flats. She leaned into the mirror to apply a dab of bronzer, and a thin line of brown M.A.C. Eyeliner on her lids. She slid vanilla mint ChapStick over her lips.

"Ready to go, Claire? It's seven."

"Yeah, I'm ready." Claire opened up the door and flicked off the light. Kristen handed her her Kate Spade messenger bag.

"Is Derrick already out?"

"Yeah," Kristen nodded, "He's waiting in the car.

"Well there's no way he's driving. If he did, we wouldn't get to school until the semester was over."

Kristen chuckled in agreement.

They walked down the stairs and said good-bye to Peter and Alice.

As they walked out the door, Claire's phone began to vibrate. Kristen's phone began to play, "Hey, Soul Sister", by Train. They were both getting text messages.

"It's probably just Massie, wondering where we are." Kristen spoke of their friend, Massie Penelope Block. Massie and Claire had been friends since they were seven, and Kristen and Massie since they were ten.

Claire walked up to the running Escalade and knocked on the driver side window. Derrick looked up.

"Is there something you need, Dear Claire?"

"Don't act like you don't know. Get out, I'm driving."

Derrick huffed. "Fine, but I'm driving home from practice."

Kristen backed out of the driveway in her Audi R8 and sped down the road as Claire got into the SUV and took it out of park.

They cruised downhill and Claire handed her phone to Derrick.

"Massie texted me earlier. Can you go into my messages and read me what it says?" Claire may have been a speed demon, but that didn't mean that she was reckless. She was never on her phone while driving. Even at stoplights.

"Sure. ""Claire, where the effity eff are you? Cam is here and he's asking about you. I think he's a tad bit jealous that you spent the night at Derrick's place, though he should be used to it by now. BTW, did Todd go back to NYU yet? Kind of a long spring break if you ask me." Then she put a wink at the end."

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed. It seemed that Massie had visited the Starbucks kiosk a little too much in one morning.

"I don't understand why Cam is jealous. He's known us since sixth grade, and it's always been like this."

"Beats me." Claire said, thinking about her on again, off again boyfriend, Cameron Michael Fischer. Currently, they were off again, and Claire wanted to keep it that way. They started dating in fifth grade and he was a small part of the reason seventh grade happened.

Her mind put up the steel trap she trusted on to keep her safe. She didn't like to think about that time, and none of her friends brought it up. Especially not Todd and Kemp.

Todd was the first born in the family. He was twenty years old, and majoring in architecture at NYU. He was the only one that had inherited great-great grandpa John's curly red hair. Todd had grown his out a bit, and it now rested a little below his eyebrows. He had freckles, and dimples, and electric blue eyes.

Kemp was Claire's twin and older by seven minutes. Despite them being twins, you had to look hard to see the resemblance. Claire's hair was a white blond, whereas Kemp's was a sandy brown. He had the same green eyes and bone structure as Claire, and some aspects of their personality were alike. They both had sharp wit and hardly ever passed up an opportunity to use sarcasm. They were both responsible and hard-working. And they were extremely close. Kemp tore himself up when what happened in seventh grade happened. Kemp and Derrick had become close friends over the years, though not as close as Derrick and Claire.

Claire took a right turn into the senior parking lot. When she pulled into a space and turned off the car, she saw all of their friends standing next to, and sitting on Massie's car. There was Kristen and Kemp, leaning against the car, kissing passionately. Then there was Dylan Elaine Marvil and Josh Jose Hotz, picking an argument over something as equally stupid as their last. Massie and Chris Jonathon Plovert were there, talking animatedly as Massie sipped liquid out of a Starbucks cup. Cam sat on the trunk of the Toyota Prius, listening to music, and Alicia Maria Rivera was next to him, filing her nails. Everything was how it was supposed to be.

As they got out of the car, Claire threw the keys to Derrick. They began to walk toward the group of teenagers. Everyone smiled at them as they arrived, and Claire plucked the Starbucks, strawberry and cremefrappucino out of Massie's hand.

"Like you really need anymore," Claire said as Massie scowled at her. She took a taunting sip.

Claire looked over at Derrick's spot beside her, only to see his backpack at her feet, and him walking away with Hailey the hurdler.

"Bye, Derrick." Claire whispered, her heart hurting strangely for the second time that day. What the hell was going on with her?

The perceptive teenagers around her exchanged glances. They all knew this would happen one day or another, and it seemed like that day would be the start of a very long war with little casualties. Or at least they hoped. But things rarely turn out how people hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Come on guys, I know that you can review more than you have been. Anyone that reviews will get a sneak peek at the next chapter. I hate to do this, but I want at least four before I post the next chapter. And the next chapter is big. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed.**

"I'm going to ask her after practice, Claire." Derrick said breathlessly as they ran during practice. It could be because he was excited, or it could be due to the two 800's they were running for their warm-up.

"And you're telling me this, because?" Claire asked, trailing off at the end.

Today had been a perpetually bad day. Ever since the parking lot, it seemed like there was a storm cloud following Claire around every where she went. She had gotten an 82 on a calculus test, her laptop had decided to commit laptop suicide and launch itself off the table in AP government, and worst of all, as she walked by the library on her way to Spanish 5, she saw Cam making out with Olivia Ryan between the bookshelves. She wasn't jealous, it just pissed her off that he was teasing her like he was.

Derrick looked hurt. "Well, because I want you at the restaurant. For moral support, you know?" Derrick asked, his eyes pleading with her.

They stopped in their respective places as coach King blew the whistle.

"Fine, I'll go. But I'm not sitting with you and hurdler Hailey.

"Yes! Thank you so much, Claire. I'll buy the chips _and_ the drinks for today."

Claire laughed as Derrick ran to the other track with the rest of the distance runners.

Once a month, Claire and Derrick would go to the spot that she attacked him. Sometimes they would swing on the swings, or run on the trail. Other times, they would sit and study, or talk and catch up.

Practice ended early, because of the meet in Queens tomorrow. They all went in to change.

Derrick and Claire met at the car, and true to his word, Derrick drove to the park. Five miles under the speed limit.

They stopped by a gas station on the way to Fish Burn park. Derrick handed Claire a ten dollar bill to pick up their snacks. They started doing this when Claire got her license. They would stop by a convenience store on their way to the park, because after practice, the two growing teenagers were usually famished.

Claire picked out a bag of Utz kettle cooked, barbecue chips and filled up two medium sized slurpee cups. Coach would kill them if he saw them eating like this.

She paid at the register and took her four dollars and sixty seven cents in change.

As she hopped into the car, she looked over at Derrick. He was sitting in the front seat, hands on the steering wheel and a dopey smile on his face.

"What's up? Did you ask her?" Claire questioned, setting the chips and drinks on the floor. Her heart sped up before he answered.

"She said yes. We're going to _Taaza_ at six tonight. I've invited everyone else to go with us. I've never been more relieved in my life." Derrick said without thinking.

Claire waited for him to apologize, but it never came.

_I've never been more relieved in my life?_Not even in seventh grade, when- no. Stop. Don't start thinking about it.

Claire smiled a shaky smile. "Well, that's great, Derrick. To _Taaza_? I'll have to dress up for that."

_Taaza _was a new Indian restaurant in town. It was at the top of the hill, and was made completely out of glass panes. It was absolutely beautiful when the sunlight hit it correctly. All of the stars made a point of going to there when they went to the city.

"Not if you don't want to." Derrick said, turning on his left turn signal to turn into the park.

"Well, I don't want to look like a slob." Claire said, trying not to look Derrick in the eye.

Claire felt like she was losing her best friend. It seemed like he was running farther and farther away and taking whatever her body needed most with her.

Derrick pulled into a space, and they both got out of the car. As the sunshine and familiar smell of charred hot dogs hit her, the memory came back to her.

_-Thirteen years ago-_

"_Ring around the rosy, a pocket full of posy, ashes, ashes, we all fall- doggy!" Four year old, Claire Lyons twin brother, Kemp Lyons said as the spun in a circle. He took off running after the sheep dog that was about as shaggy as Kemp was. _

_Claire fell on the ground with an oopmh. She glared after her brother as he plowed into the dog and its owner. _

_She looked over to the picnic table that her mom was sitting at, yelling at a squirming Todd for going into the mud and getting his new, white shoes all messy. _

_The blond girl slowly swiveled her head, taking in the pretty blue sky with no clouds in it. Her eyes landed on a long-haired boy. He had light like hers, but his skin was a little bit darker than hers. Something caught her eye on the boy's finger. It was big, and it sparkled in the sunlight. He put it into his mouth, meaning only one thing. _

_Ring-pop. _

_Claire didn't wait for the boy to move any closer to her. She quickly picked herself off the ground and took off running. She was a fast runner, always beating kids around her neighborhood. _

_A few feet before she hit him, he looked over at her, his brown eyes widening to the size of a full-moon. By then, it was too late to move. _

_There was a huge collision and Claire got off the boy, swiftly sliding his ring-pop off his finger and popped it into her mouth. _

"_That hurt," the boy lisped our softly. _

_Claire rolled her eyes. "You're a baby." She said, by helped him up anyways. _

"_Claire Stacy Lyons, why did you do that?" Her mother asked furiously. She stormed over to where the two young children were standing. _

"_He had a wing-pawp." She said, her trophy in her mouth. _

"_Apologize. Right now." _

"_Sawwy." Claire said, looking down. _

"_That's okay. My name is Derrick." _

"_Claire." _

"_Do you want to go play on the swings, Claire?" Derrick asked, shuffling around. _

"_Sure," Claire took the ring-pop out of her mouth, and tried to hand it back to Derrick. _

"_Um, that's okay." _

"_Last one to the sings is a rotten egg!" Claire shouted, quickly taking off from her mother and Derrick. _

_-_Present day-

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?" Derrick asked, waving a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry, what?"

Derrick rolled her eyes. "I was asking if you wanted to sit here and eat, and talk?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

The pair sat down on the edge of the play ground, a bag of chips and their drinks between them.

They talked for a while. They talked about everything and everything. The Queens meet tomorrow, Kristen and Kemp, the blue sky. It almost felt like old times.

Almost.

"Oh fuck!" Derrick exclaimed, hopping up from the spot.

"What?" Claire asked curiously, wondering what could have happened. What could he have forgotten?

"It's five fifteen. We have to be ready soon, because-"

"The date is at six. Let's go." Claire said, her voice devoid of all emotion.

They both took off in a sprint. Derrick, because he sensed the urgency of picking up Hailey up on time, and Claire, because she didn't want to be left by her best friend.

"Here," Derrick said, tossing Claire the keys. "I want you to drive. Fast." He added.

Claire laughed. "Okay, Derrick, whatever you say."

It took them all of ten minutes to get back to Derrick's house. It was only twenty minutes away, though.

Claire dropped off Derrick and his car, grabbed her extra stuff from his house and said good-bye to Peter and Alice. She hopped into her own car.

As she drove. She tried to put together these strange feelings she was having. Despite her being an honor student, she couldn't figure it out.

Really, she just didn't want to accept the answer.

**Please guys, review. **


	4. Chapter 4

**I caved. But please, review. **

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed.**

"I'm wearing my hot pink dress,"

"No, not that one, the one that goes half way down my thigh. You know the one with the black belt under my boobs? Right, that one."

"Okay, I'll see you there." I hung up the phone from my conversation with Massie, and threw my iPhone on my bed.

It was getting late, and I really needed to get going.

I brushed out my hair, grabbed my black clutch, and said good-bye to my family.

My black pumps clicked against the pavement and I prayed to whoever was up there that I wouldn't fall.

I loved driving at night. I would turn the radio to the "Sappy Love-song queen" and turn my brain to autopilot. My body would make the decisions when I drove, and my body would think of everything and absolutely nothing.

For some reason, I was tense. It wasn't about the Queens meet tomorrow. It wasn't because it was almost the anniversary of what happened in seventh grade, and the five years was extremely close to being up. And it definitely wasn't because the boning in this dress went down too far. No, it was something else entirely. It was like my body knew something was going to happen, but it wasn't cluing my mind in on the secret.

I pulled into the Taaza driveway and drove up the hill, hoping that someone else was as late as I was.

Massie and Chris were getting out of the Aston Martin.

"Claire!" She cried, running over to me at a ridiculous pace for five inch heels.

"Hey, Mass." I said, throwing my keys into my clutch. "You look good."

Massie was wearing a slinky, gold dress that sparkled when it caught the light. She had thousands of bangles on her wrist that reminded me of Christmas when she swung her arms. Her long, brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and two tendrils hung down, framing her face.

"Thanks, you do too."

I laughed. "I spent a total of fifteen minutes getting ready. I highly doubt I look that good."

She rolled her golden eyes. "Whatever. We are so late. We need to get in there before they serve the tandoori chicken.

Massie grabbed Chris's hand and quickly walked into the restaurant. Chris looked back at me, his eyes filled with fear. I just laughed and quickly sped up, not wanting to walk in alone.

As I pushed open the glass doors, the smell of wonderful Indian food attacked my senses.

I saw the table that Derrick was sitting at. He looked so handsome in his D&G suit. His golden hair fell over his brown eyes perfectly. He looked amazing.

Wait, what? Where the hell did that come from?

He caught my eye and waved at me. Hunter followed his hand. She narrowed her eyes at me and turned away with a flick of her hair.

Frickin' bitch.

What is wrong with me? Hunter and I didn't hate each other? Or we didn't last time I checked.

I sat down at the table with everyone. They all smiled at me, and I smiled back, my heart speeding up.

There weren't that many people in the restaurant, so we were served pretty quickly. The chicken came out with the shrimp, and as usual, they were both amazing.

I kept looking over at Derrick and Hunter. They looked so happy. Every time she would laugh at something he said, his face would light up. They corners of his eyes would crinkle and the grin would take over his entire face. Derrick was in love.

With Hunter.

Something inside of me snapped. It broke. Shattered into a million pieces, never to be put back together again.

I was in love with Derrick.

Derrick Harrington.

My best friend of fourteen years. Since I was four years old.

As a reflex, I stood up abruptly. The cushioned chair fell behind me and everyone looked up at me with a sympathetic expression. They all knew.

"I um, I got a text from my mom. She needed me to do something for her. I'll catch up with you guys later."

Dylan, who was sitting close to me, patted my hand. "Hon,"

I snatched it away. "I'll- I'll see you guys later." I choked out, semi-coherently. Turning around rapidly, I grabbed my clutch off the table.

I stormed out of the restaurant, my chest heaving. I hadn't felt this kind of panic since seventh grade.

Walking quickly, I slipped out of my heels and took off at a sprint that I used for meets.

I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do when I got there. I just knew I couldn't be here.

**Despite me accidentally changing Derrick's new girlfriend's name, her name is Hunter. Not Hailey. Review. Oh, and look for a new collab with me and Bailz (HI BAILEY), coming soon. **

**Peaceout. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews this time, guys. Let's try to keep it up.**

**Disclaimer: Nope. I definitely do not own the Clique. It'd be much stranger if I did. Trust me.**

**Shout out to Bailey! How's it coming on that collab?**

I didn't know where I was when I stopped.

Stopped running, stopped crying, stopped anything. It was cold, and wet, and rainy, and humid. I was miserable, my pulse was sky high, and my feet were covered in flower petals and grass and weeds. My dress was clinging to my body, and all I wanted to do was get farther away from the constant reminder that my best friend was now replaced in my mind as the man that I was in love with.

Time passed. Maybe seconds, maybe hours. I didn't know, understand or comprehend anything.

I think I started crying again. It was too hard to tell, because the rain was coming down so hard. I wanted warmth, and friendliness. I wanted this torrential downpour to stop, both in front of me and in my mind. But what I really wanted was Derrick.

I sat. Sat where, I didn't know. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, which was another mistake. I think I heard my watch beep, letting me know that another hour had went by. What time it was, though, I had no clue.

At some time, I had gone horizontal. The tears were gone and so was the rain. I was soaked, and my body was chilled to the bone. Despite the fact that it was the beginning of May, the temperature had dropped dramatically.

My teeth chattered and my fingers shook. I had gotten my bearings somewhat together so that when a pair of arms wrapped around me, I punched. Hard.

The wind was knocked out of someone. "Well, it's good to know those self-defense moves are working." Kemp said, his arms tightening around me as he picked me up.

Hearing the familiarity in voice, I immediately burst into tears. "Kemp,… I'm in love with-"

"Shh," he said, comforting me. "You don't have to say anything. It's okay. I know."

Still crying, I nuzzled closer to my brother's warm body. He provided me with comfort, and familiarity, and warmth. With feelings of home that I longed for so badly.

He carried me to his Jeep Liberty and set me down in the front seat. He wrapped a warm fleece blanket around me and handed me a cup of hot cocoa. He then hopped into the driver's seat and blasted the heat.

Itching to shake off this depressed feeling that I hated so much, I tried to carry on a conversation with my brother.

"What time is it?" I asked, my throat coated with recently shed tears.

"Around eleven-thirty.

I groaned. "Coach is going to kill me! I was supposed to be in bed tonight by ten, so I wouldn't be tired at the meet tomorrow! The last time this happened, I threw the race and got fifth place. It screwed up my record and-"

"Claire. You're babbling."

I looked down. "Sorry."

"Did anything happen while you were out tonight? Anything like-"

"No, Kemp. Nothing like that happened."

He visibly relaxed. "You know, it's almost been five years since-"

"I know, Kemp."

"Alright, I'm sorry for bringing it up. I just don't want you to do anything stupid this year. I don't want to ever come that close to losing you again."

"Okay, Kemp! I get it!" I snapped, turning away from my well-meaning brother.

My heart pounded as I tried to push away those memories. I didn't need them especially now that-

Now that what?

Now that the person that pulled you back from that place was gone?

Now that my best friend was gone?

Now that I was in love with him?

Kemp turned into our circular driveway and I could see my mother, silhouetted by the light. As the headlights swept across the large bay window, she rushed to the door, throwing it open.

"Did Todd drive my car home?"

Kemp nodded. "Your shoes are in your room."

"Okay."

We walked up the front steps to the open door.

"Oh thank God, Claire. You had me so worried."

"Sorry," I said, trying to not make eye contact with her. I hated worrying my mom.

I climbed the steps to my room, praying that the heat wasn't being temperamental again.

I opened the French doors that I begged dad to put in. He had to make sure that me, as his only daughter, had the biggest room.

I had a king sized bed in the middle of my wall. There was a square canopy around it, made entirely out of beads. I had a gray papasan chair a little farther away from the bed, and a stainless steel computer desk was pushed against the wall. I had a large walk-in closet and a bathroom attached to the bedroom.

My room had always been my solace. It was where I could go to get away from the entire world around me. And everything that was going on in my life could cease to exist and it would just be me. And that was exactly what I needed now.

**Okay, so Claire is slightly pathetic in this chapter. But we should allow her a day or two to sulk, shouldn't we? She'll be back to her normal self soon, but a little changed. **

**For anyone that is wondering, the people in this fic, meaning Claire, Derrick, Massie, Chris, Kemp, Alicia, Josh, Kristen, and Cam, are seniors. In high school. **

**Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ouch. Typing hurts, but I do it anyways. Just for all of you. And Bailey. And Danyelle, whose going to die, driving her dad's work van. And kill me in the process. Anyways. You see, I'm learning to play the guitar. And for those of you that play, maybe I don't need to say anymore, but for those of you who don't, you need to press really hard on the strings to make the right sound. And my three fingers are screaming at me. Any advice for making it hurt less? **

**Disclaimer: La. Which means no. **

"Morning mom," Kemp grumbled as he clomped his way into the kitchen for breakfast early Saturday morning.

I was already dressed in my uniform and stirring a bowl of Special K cereal around. My hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail against my head and my Adidas clad foot bounced up and down against the floor. My eyes darted back and forth anxiously, not landing on any one object for more then a second.

"Concerned about something, Claire? Or do you just enjoy stomping the floor?" Kemp asked, pulling a pop-tart out of the packet.

"Um, both. I don't know?" I said, it coming out more like a question than a statement.

"Ookay, someone had a psychotic break while she slept at night."

"Kemp, hush. So you're really going to go today? I'm sure the coach would understand if you skipped a meet."

"No mom, he wouldn't. And yes, I'm going. I have to do this. For me."

She nodded, but looked as if she had something left to say.

The alarm I had set on my watch sounded and I knew I had to go.

"I have to leave. I'll see you around twelve, when you guys bring me lunch?"

"Typical teenager," My mom said, smiling slightly. "Always looking for food. Yes, we'll be there. Good luck sweetie, have a good time."

"Is dad coming?" I asked hopefully. My dad hadn't been to a meet since the beginning of a season and he was on the phone for my events, so I don't think that really counted.

"You know he wants to be there, Claire, but he's so busy. When he got home last night, he told me to tell you good luck."

I scoffed. "Yeah, because that makes everything better. I have to go mom, I'll see you guys there."

"Bye hon."

"Bye Claire."

I grabbed my purse and my keys and headed out to my car.

Honestly, I didn't want to go today. I didn't want to face him. I didn't want to face her, and I definitely didn't want to face him and her. Together. At the same time.

I wanted to sit in my room and cry into my Ben and Jerry's, while listening to sappy love songs, while I sobbed to my best friend.

But that was the thing.

My best friend was Derrick.

It had always been that way, and I thought it would always be that way.

But it wasn't and I needed to deal with it. I just didn't have to tell Derrick.

After driving for a while, I turned into Queens Day School where the track meet was going to be held. I parked my car and made my way over to the tent so I could get my number. After that, I went over to the BOCD tent, bracing myself for the imminent pain of seeing him, hearing him, smelling him.

My broken heart pounded away as I checked in with the coaches and they told me the order of the events.

I sat down at one of the picnic tables and wished that I had brought something to do, when I heard him.

"Claire!"

I inhaled sharply. He was too close to me for me to pretend I didn't hear him. I took a couple of deep breaths and turned to him as he jogged up to me.

It was a bad idea.

The pain that I had worked so hard to numb returned swiftly, and with vengeance. To see him smiling so happy, while it felt like I was dying on the inside was incomprehensible to me. We had always shared each other's pain and happiness. How could he be so happy while I was suffering?

"Hey Claire! Why didn't you answer any of my calls last night? I must have tired like a couple dozen times."

I clearly needed a better excuse than, "I was crying myself to sleep. Sorry I didn't pick up."

"I um, I lost my phone after I left yesterday. Turns out I left it in my car."

"Oh. Well, I've been trying to talk to you since you got your number. Didn't you hear me when I called your name? Or flopped my arms around like a deranged chicken?"

"Nope." I said honestly. I think I was really trying to to block out his voice. Derrick furrowed his brows, but quickly shook it off, seeing no reason that he knew of to why I would be brushing him off.

"Um, okay. Do you need a ride home? We'd have to drop Hunter off first, but that should only take-"

"No," I cut him off, rudely. "I brought my car."

"Well, maybe we can hang out tomorrow."

"Yeah, maybe." I faked a smile.

"Okay then. I'm going to find Hunter. See you later."

I sighed deeply, gasping for air as he walked away. Knives were repeatedly going into my heart and turning twice, once they reached their destination, making the pain so much worse.

"Ouch." Someone winced from behind me. It was Wes King, star of the long jump and man whore of the school. He was handsome enough, with a strong, athletic build.

"What do you want, Wes?" I asked quickly, trying to get rid of him. He had a habit of hitting on every girl he thought he had a chance with. Which was basically every girl.

"Why do I have to want something, Claire?" He asked, his face showing mock hurt. "Can't I just be concerned that that douche bag over there is slowly killing you?"

I turned my head around quickly to look at him. "What do you know?"

"Claire, Claire, Claire, _everyone _knows _everything. _Well, except for dipshit over there. He's worse than a goddamn bat." He jerked his thumb in the direction of where Derrick walked.

"It's none of your business anyways."

"I agree, but I thought you should know about this place on Stridster road. It can help you forget everything."

I glared at him. "I know the place. I turn 18 in a month. It's illegal for me to be drinking."

"That didn't used to stop you." Wes said, daring me to respond.

"If I knew you better and didn't have an event in a few seconds, I'd hit you so hard right now."

"A couple of guys from the swim team and me are going to be there tonight. You should come."

"Calling all runners for the 55meter dash! At the starting line, please!"

Here goes nothing.

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**Such is the circle of life. Live it. **


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter has a warning. There is alcohol and a lot of drug use. If you don't like it, then don't read it. There's a reason this is an M rated fic.**

**The writing probably won't be as good as it hopefully was in this chapter, because I had no clue what the hell I was talking about in it. It's a short chapter, but very important to the development of the story. **

**HI BAILEY! I GOT A NEW EMAIL ADDRESS!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique. **

After screwing up my events, I left the track meet, not even waiting for coach to yell at me. Currently, I didn't give a shit how I did. I just didn't want to see Derrick and Hunter walk around like the new couple they were, holding hands and giggling. I wanted my best friend to be happy; I just wanted him to be happy with me.

I walked quickly out to my car, trying to get away from everything. I sat in the driver's seat for a while, just thinking to myself. About nothing. About everything. I wanted the voice in my head that were taunting me to stop talking. To stop shouting the fact that I wasn't with Derrick and he loved someone else. That I wasn't good enough for him. And if I wasn't good enough for my best friend, who was I good enough for?

I knew exactly where to go when I felt like this. I didn't want to go, but it was better than the alternative. A lot better.

The stale beer and loud music was familiar. But unlike the last times I had been here five years ago, it wasn't comforting. I didn't enjoy it. I felt weak because I was giving up, but I didn't care because I wanted to stop thinking about Derrick and Hunter _so goddamn badly._ I wanted all of my thoughts to go away, and I knew the exact way to do it.

I walked over to the bar and sat down in front of the bartender who had his back turned to me.

"What can I get ya, missy?" A gruff voice said to me as I looked up from my hands. I gave a half-smile. "Claire Lyons," Gavin said, with slight disappointment in his voice. "I hoped I would never see you here again."

"I know, Gavin. I hoped I would never be here again. But things have changed, and I need our old usual to deal with it."

"Fine. But only because I know what would happen if I didn't help you this way." He grabbed the liquor off the shelf to make my Zombie. It was one of the strongest drinks you can have, with a shot of dark rum, one shot of white rum, and one shot of spiced rum, and a bunch of other flavorings that I didn't care about back then.

Around me, I heard the familiar sniffing of people getting high off of cocaine and other drugs in the dark booths around me. I gulped and ran my fingers through my hair as Gavin placed my drink in front of me.

"Have fun." He said, walking away to leave me with my familiar addiction. I took a swig of the drink, feeling the alcohol slide down my throat. It burned and I felt disgusting. But I felt somewhat better.

Two Zombies later, I was sitting drunk in a booth giggling with Wes wrapped around me.

"Come on Kuh-Laire. You haaaaaave to try it." Wes said drunkenly hiccupping.

"But West, I don't waant to." I whispered in his ear.

"Puh-lease?"

"Okay."

Not entirely sure what I was agreeing to, Wes gave me the tube we were all using and I drunkenly shoved it up my nose. I laid it down on the line that was cut for me and sniffed hard.

It was my first time doing Coke in five years. It felt fucking good. Three or four more hits later and adrenaline hit my veins. It felt soooo good. "More Wes, I want more."

"Sorry sweet-cheeks. You should have come earlier."

I was feeling childish and immature so I turned away from him. As I whipped my head around, my vision clouded over and my ears started to ring. I got dizzy, but I wanted to by away from here. I wanted more of the fun stuff.

"We have speed-balls, though." Was said, tempting me. My ears perked up at the mention of my old friend.

"Set me up for a line." I demanded. This was the serious stuff and there was no going back after that.

**Short chapter, but pretty crucial. We all have to understand that Claire is having a difficult time coping right now, so she reverts back to the old ways. Sorry it's taken me forever to update, but my school load is almost unbearable. Please review guys.**

**Speedball: A mix of Cocaine and Heroin**


	8. Chapter 8

_Shh Claire, it's just me._

_No, don't shout. No one will be able to hear you. _

_Shh Claire, it's just me._

_Shh Claire, it's just me. _

I shot up from where I was laying. My breathing was short and panicked, and it scared me. My hair stuck to my bare back and I had no idea where I was. The back of my eyes stung from unshed tears as a result of the nightmare. My head hurt so fucking badly. It seemed like the drum line from school was inside my head and was beating on their instruments.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

I looked around and found that I was in my car. What the hell was I doing in here? And why was I half naked?

The sun burned my eyes and I groaned as the memories from last night came to me.

Zombies. Lots of Zombies. And…

Oh God.

Jesus Christ.

Fuck. Did I really do that? Did I really do coke and heroin last night? Why did I fuck up so badly? It had been almost five years since I had touched any sort of alcohol or drugs. And why did I have to go back at a single moment of weakness?

Maybe because I was weak.

_You can't fight back Claire. You know why. It's because you're weak. You're such a weak bitch. _

I shook my head, trying to get the memories out. I wanted to break down and cry. Not only am I completely heartbroken, but now I have to go through withdrawals all over again. Due to one moment of weakness. I felt so disgusted with myself.

I didn't even wonder how my shirt got on the back window. Honestly, I didn't want to know. I grabbed my purse off the floor and looked for my phone, but of course, it was fucking dead.

I pulled my sunglasses out and slipped them on, hoping that it would help with the headache. It didn't.

Pulling away from the parking lot, I wanted to turn my mind off. I wanted to stop thinking about what I did. What _he _did to me. But I know that it was what I deserved.

So I drove. And I thought.

I didn't want to face my family like this, but I knew that if I didn't go into my house right now, then I wouldn't want to go in there again.

I wanted to make myself look as put together as possible so I pulled a small hair brush out of my bag and slowly worked through my tangles. I pulled some make up out and started to apply it, hoping that I looked slightly normal. I slipped a piece of mint gum into my mouth and sprayed myself with my PINK perfume. I knew that I was still slightly drunk so my mom would be able to tell right away. She knew my old habits so well.

Opening the door with my key, I slipped inside silently; even though I knew everyone should be up by know.

I didn't want to hide it. I wanted to tell my mom immediately, even though I didn't want to get in trouble.

"Claire Stacy Lyons,"

"Dad," I said completely surprised.

"Where the hell have you been Claire? Your mom and I have been up all night worrying about you!" He shouted at me.

I was angry. It was the first time I've seen him in a week and a half and he has the nerve to yell at me? As if he knows exactly what's going on with the family? With me?

"You have no right to talk! I haven't seen you home since last Tuesday! You have no idea what I have been going through this week! I am in more pain then I have ever been in, and that's saying so much!"

"I'm here now Claire! Why don't you tell me what's going on!"

"I'm in love with Derrick!" I sobbed out, sliding down against the refrigerator. The tears I had been holding back for hours freely flowed now. They streamed down my face and hung off my chin. My dad came over and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me. I sobbed into his chest. "I went to a bar. I got drunk and high, and I think I slept with someone!"

My dad tried to comfort me, but it didn't work.

"I'm such a fuck-up! If my own father doesn't want to see me, then why should my best friend?"

"Don't you ever say that." He commanded, but he didn't say anything else.

I knew he wanted to see me. But he didn't show it, and he knew that.

I heard footsteps on the stairs, and knew that it was probably my mom.

She gasped when she came into the kitchen, seeing my extremely bloodshot eyes, and smelling the alcohol on me, even if I had tried to cover it with perfume.

"Claire! Jay, what's going on?" She asked, an undertone of disappointment in her voice.

I felt my dad shake his head saying to my mom, don't ask. At least not right now.

Right now I just needed comfort. I just needed my dad.


End file.
